The sun was scorching hot; a cold breeze echoed through the air, making the musketeers shiver under the too bright sun. Dust danced through the air, glinting off the sun, like little wisps of life fading in and out of focus.
D'Artagnan looked up at the sky marveling at the heat. He felt oddly uneasy as he looked back down to see his friends smiling faces. Something wasn't right, but what was it?
Aramis, Athos, and Porthos were preparing for the day when D'Artagnan noticed a suspicious looking man peering over the edge of the gate. He observed the man for several minutes hand on his gun.
"D'Artagnan?" Athos questioned, looking at his friends uneasiness.
The second he turned toward Athos the man moved toward them pulling out a gun and pointing it at Athos.
"Watch out!" D'Artagnan shouted, pushing Athos out of the way and on to the ground.
The explosion of the firearm sent the bullet whistling through the air, as the bullet found its target.
.~.~.~.~.~.
D'Artagnan felt the world around him go silent. He saw ten or so musketeers surround the man swords pointing, Porthos and Aramis were among them. He could see their mouths moving as if they were shouting he tried to make out what they were saying, but all he could here was loud beeping sound echoing in his skull.
He gasped and the world around him refocused. Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation flare up in his lower abdomen. He clutched it protectively, feeling a warm liquid sliding over his fingers. D'Artagnan looked down to inspect the burning sensation and saw blood. He pulled his hand away to look at the bright shining red liquid that coated his hand.
.~.~.~.~.~.
Athos looked up at the young Gascon, he noticed the boy was studying his hand very intently. He stood up and made his way over to where D'Artagnan stood, he looked at the blood that coated D'Artagnan's hand and visibly paled.
Athos grabbed D'Artagnan's shoulders and gently pulled him to the ground, laying D'Artagnan's head on his lap.
"Athos..." D'Artagnan replied wearily.
"Shhhh... It's okay." He comforted pulling D'Artagnan's sticky hair from his face. "Aramis!" Athos called desperately.
Aramis turned from the man, his sword now pining him to the ground, and looked at Athos full of worry.